so when zombies aren't walking around all day going "brains" what do they do?

that almost sounds like a seindfeld routine.

"So you spend all day looking for brains.. this is what zombies do. get brains, get brains.. so then what happens when you finally get brains? we got brains.. ! now what? so what do you want to do? you wanna go see a movie?"

Yes, Thanksgiving's a distant memory (but still a distended belly) but I still like eating birdmeat.

christianrock wrote:my family's German so at home we baked ducks and geese, not turkeys, but it's the same thing, just overblown).

I quite like duck, but I've never had goose. It's not common or readily available at the market, like brains used to be. Would I like it? I like pheasant & quail and all other fowls I've tried.

[wayback alert] One Thanksgiving when I was ten or so, my crazy uncle Clifton persuaded his oldest son (14) to attempt to ambush a Canadian Goose from a large flock grazing by a pond in a residential subdivision. He (Uncle Clifton) wished to show us youngsters how much better the holiday meal could be with the addition of freshly killed goosemeat. The plan was, my uncle would drive stealthily near the birds, and Carl (my cousin) would leap out of the car and subdue his unfortunate victim by virtue of the deadly strength of his lethal bare hands. I was to sit in the front seat and lookout for neighbors and the cops, as we were pretty sure these activities were in violation of at least one local ordinance or game & wildlife law. I must admit, I didn't think either of them was serious, just trying to 'kid' the kid, you know? Uncle Clifton later admitted to this ruse, but apparently Carl didn't get the wink.

Things were going along fine until Carl actually did jump out, grab one of the largest ganders, and slammed the door with all of us inside. All the goose's brethren raised unbelievable noisy hell at this outrage, not the least the big buck Carl had managed to ambush. The wild animal immediately began to demonstrate just why he is called a "wild animal" by going absolutely berserk in my uncle's Cadillac. After he (the goose) shredded my cousin with the razor blades attached to his legs, he lunged into the front to see if anyone else wanted any. I was already out the door by then, having made the lightning fast decision that I'd rather take my chances with the mob outside, trusting that the other geese would see that I was merely an innocent tag along. My uncle wasn't as quick to bolt, as he, being a mostly law abiding citizen, was wearing his seat belt.

But, this is becoming tldr, so I'll spare you the numerous lulzful comments heaped on us by the rest of the clan. Let's just say there was a gaggle of gaffes most fowl...

Oh and if you like duck, you'll like goose. They don't taste all that different to me. Now that I remember, I think we ate a lot more duck than geese... they can fit a lot of stuffing in them, and are very greasy, so that's why we love them

anyway, the eve is upon us. let your maries be merrie and hopefully not named fannie. may your meals be hearty tis night and not farty later... later i'll be making drunken phone calls and then to all a good night!

Yesterday I went to the mall. Oh, the humanity! Srsly. Every single member of that group was in attendance.

Later we made a snowperson. Baron Von Heindenschnifter welcomed him into the family with a very solemn doggish ceremony known as The Anointing of New Objects With Warm Amber Fluid. He (the golem) was later endowed by my son with a frankfurter in such an anatomical location that his gender was no longer in doubt. Unfortunately for him (Frank, as he became known) he was quickly knackered by one of our resident domesticated carnivores.